Chapter Four: A Series of Unfortunate Events

“Ow!” Reginald yelped. “That hurt! Watch the hands.”

A swift crack echoed in the practice room as another blow landed between the staves. “You got hit because you were watching your hands. Eyes on the opponent!” Zal said to Reginald.

“HEAD!” Regina shouted as she swung a big blow overhanded at Reginald’s head. Reginald shifted his grip and shot the staff up to block with a loud CRACK as the blow connected just above his helmet. Zal smiled; his bushy mustache twisted up.

“A good block, but you gotta be faster. You won’t get a warning in a real fight,” Zal added as Regina and Reginald circled each other, shifting their grip on their staves.

Regina gracefully switched her stance to spear form and thrust repeatedly. Reginald poorly mirrored her stance and swatted away the incoming blows with ease. The two danced around each other, trading blows to no effect. Letting herself get backed into a corner, Regina smirked unseen under her protective sparring helmet.

With sudden aggression, Reginald advanced, jabbing over and over with each step. But rather than block or flee, Regina dodged into the blow, around the side, and swatted Reginald’s arms away, sending him off-balance. A swift leg strike was all that was needed to send him tumbling to the ground.

Not staying down for even a moment, Reginald leaned into his roll and flipped himself up and into a ready stance again. “Good recovery, but if she had been using a real weapon, she could have taken your arm off instead,” Zal chided. “If you hadn’t been so aggressive, she wouldn’t have been able to get out from under the blows.”

Regina removed her helmet and shook out her long two-toned auburn-blond hair. Dabbing her forehead with her sleeve, she put down her staff and helmet and smiled at Reginald. “See Reg, that’s what I’m always saying. You act before you think, and your opponent takes advantage of that.”

With a harrumph, Reginald removed his helmet. “And I still say it’s a cheap move to sweep my legs.”

“In combat, there are no rules. You win, or you die. You must be prepared for every trick your opponent can throw at you,” Zal said. “Now, how about we move on to sword practice?” Reginald and Regina went to stow their weapons as their father’s chamberlain approached from the main door leading out of the training room.

“Excuse me, Master Zal,” the chamberlain said with exquisite politeness. “The mistress and master have been asked to an audience.”

“Can it wait?” Zal asked with obvious annoyance in his tone. “We have a while yet to go. After sword practice, we still have drills.”

“Unfortunately,” the chamberlain lingered on the “ly,” “this is quite important and cannot wait.”

“Buh,” Regina moaned and rolled her eyes. “What does father want this time?”

“Don’t be rude,” Reginald admonished. “If father needs us, it must be important,” he said, concealing his relief at being done with practice early. Reginald and Regina helped each other remove the rest of their padded practice armor, and in a few minutes, they moved to follow the chamberlain to the audience chamber.

The three walked through the twisting hallways of the inner compound. “What do you think this is about?” Reginald said, addressing both the chamberlain and Regina.

“How would I know?” Regina asked rhetorically. “I’m never included in anything.”

“I am quite certain your father would like to discuss it with you himself,” the chamberlain said dryly.

“Ooo, ominous,” Reginald said, waving his hands in big circles. As they went to enter the main audience chamber, the massive double door swung open. Out walked a herald carrying a golden trumpet, followed by several men holding various flags.

“Make way! Make way! The Patriarch comes!” The recognizable shrill cry of the Patriarch’s personal herald rang out from right in front of them. Regina was just quick enough to get out of the way. Reginald was not so dexterous and collided with the herald, collapsing in a heap. The room began to darken as he fell. Reginald braced his hands and knees, and when he finally stopped tumbling, he looked up to the disapproving grimace and pitch-black eyes of the Patriarch drinking the light from the room. He wore black robes with gold trim and stood over Reginald, looking down imperiously.

“Foolish boy! Can’t you watch where you’re going . . .” the Patriarch scolded.

Springing to his feet as quickly as he could, Reginald straightened and then bowed low. “Oh . . . uh. Hello, Your Greatness.” He shuffled backward while still bowing. “I apologize for my clumsiness. I am but a worm at your feet.”

One eyebrow crept up on the Patriarch’s face. “Are you making fun, boy?”

Reginald stiffened. “No sir, not me, never. I don’t even like jokes!”

The Patriarch’s face did not change and he simply stared directly at Reginald in the eyes. His black eyes pulled in small motes of light from around him. The staring contest continued before Reginald became uncomfortable and averted his gaze. The Patriarch sneered imperiously at Reginald who now watched the floor. Satisfied with his victory in a staring contest with a child, the ancient emperor let out a mirthless and dismissive growl. “You’d do well to work on that piety, son. You could be the high priest someday. And I won’t stand for any nonsense.” The Patriarch did not wait for a response and moved on with his heraldic entourage. As the Patriarch left the room, the light returned to normal.

After the entourage had passed, Regina leaned over and with a low voice asked, “What do you suppose THAT was about?”

Reginald’s face was locked in a worried scowl. “I don’t know, but it can’t be good. What was with that quip about becoming high priest anyway?”

Regina peered into the room and did not immediately see their father. “Well, guess it’s time to find out . . .”

They walked through the main hall, which was supported by tall stone pillars with pointed arches. Light filtered in through large diamond-shaped windows in the wall, facing south, lighting a series of frescoes depicting various historical scenes. The siblings stopped suddenly as they finally saw their father. He was wearing his red and green formal robes for meeting with the Patriarch and leaning against one of the large stone pillars that were spread evenly through the ostentatiously vaulted ceiling. Rather than resting aloof, waiting patiently, whistling whimsically, or any other behavior they knew their father for, he stood with his back turned to them and his shoulders moved up and down in what was barely contained sobbing.

It was not quiet. He wasn’t prone to crying, so in the limited times that he did, he was none too subtle about it. The siblings looked at each other very worriedly. Reginald gestured his head toward their father in a failed attempt to convey something in silent body language. Regina had equal difficulty as she repeated the gesture and bulged her eyes for emphasis.

Abruptly, the crying stopped.Their father straightened his shoulders and wiped his still hidden face with one of his oversized robe sleeves. “You two are sweet to give me some space, but I could feel you stop walking Reginald.” He shook his head twice quickly to clear his eyes, and turned to face his children.

His eyes were bloodshot and puffy and he had done a terrible job at wiping his nose with his robe. But he seemed quite composed to his children compared to the weeping mess that he seemed not two moments before. “I don’t even have to hear you boy. From the moment you left your mother, I could sense you as my heir as much as feel the beat of my own heart.” He forced a smile and joked, “Though you were never very quiet anyway. You can’t pull anything over on your old man, eh?”

Regina and Reginald still stood in shocked silence. They could see in real time as their father equipped his carefully constructed masquerade of levity over his apparent sorrow.

Reginald and Regina shared a concerned look. Regina asked, “What’s going on father, you’re worrying us.”

Their father rubbed the brow of his nose and took a huge sigh. “My brothers are dead.”

Regina gasped. Reginald just looked at his feet. “What? All of them? How is that even possible?” Regina asked.

Their father shook his head. “Not all of them. My oldest brother Paul is safe in the palace. But your uncles, Jefe and Johnathan, died in a mortar attack on the front lines of the Rustang–Jeranin war sometime last week. They weren’t anywhere near the fighting even. It looks like the Rustang are further ahead of us in technology than we thought . . .” His voice trailed off as he spoke with resigned melancholy.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Father . . .” Regina said. Reginald continued staring at his shoes, contemplating the ramifications.

“They took over their sons, of course. But now they are out of the line of succession,” he said in reply.

“So that means . . .” Regina said.

Their father nodded and looked away. “Yes, that makes me the new spare heir for the Patriarch.” He let out a loud and long sigh before continuing. “And with that, comes some additional responsibilities for you two.”

A worried look crossed Regina’s face. Reginald continued to look at his feet, he knew what was coming. “As the son and daughter of the spare son, you are both elevated to be Prince and Princess of the realm. Congratulations.”

“Hooray, just what I always wanted,” Regina said deadpan, trying not to roll her eyes. “But what does this have to do with responsibilities?”

“Well, you need to be prepared in the event I do become the heir.”

“What does that entail, exactly?” Regina asked, still concerned.

“It means I have to join the priesthood . . .” Reginald said, resigned.

“What? But you hate reading, and piety for that matter. You’d be a terrible priest.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Be that as it may,” their father interrupted. “It’s his duty; he could be high priest someday, and it’s important that he be learned in the ways of the church just in case. He starts next week.”

A worried look came to Regina’s face. “So, what does that mean for me?”

“Well . . .” their father said, looking away. “You’re to be married to the king of Galic.”

“What?” both siblings said.

“Next week.”

“What!?” they said again.

“In Galic, where none of us can attend . . .”

“WHAT!?!?” both siblings yelled now.

“I know, I know, I’m not happy about it either. But my brother Jefe’s daughter, your cousin, Yasmina? She was supposed to do it, but now that her family line is cut off from the Patriarch line, she isn’t suitable for a diplomatic marriage. Someone had to take her place, and, well, that’s you.”

Regina looked down. “I don’t believe this. You’re telling me. I have to go half a continent away, by myself, to get married to some fat, slovenly, barbaric king? In a week? I can’t believe this, what did mother say?”

“I haven’t told her yet . . .” their father said, burying his face in his hands. “She’s going to be heartbroken.”

“I’ll bet,” Reginald said with a bit of snark in his tone.

Regina was shaking, she was so angry. “How could you agree to this? Yasmina is almost twenty! They know I’m only seventeen, right? You knew how we would react.”

“It’s not up to me!” Their father exclaimed. “It’s an order directly from the Patriarch. When God himself tells you to do something, you do it.”

Regina sighed; he had a point there. “Well, at least I’ll have a week to pack and say goodbye.”

“Well . . .” their father said.

“What?” Regina said, with venom in her voice.

“The wedding is in a week, because of something about the lunar calendar they follow. But it takes almost that long to get there. So . . .”

“Oh no,” Regina said.

“You leave early tomorrow morning. Even then, you’ll barely make it. Yasmina was already most of the way there anyway.”

Regina put her face in her hands and started to cry. Reginald put his arm around her. “It’ll be ok, Sis,” he said reassuringly. “It might not be so bad; he may not be as fat or slovenly as you think. Maybe he’s handsome and gallant.”

“I don’t care if he’s the most handsome man in the world! I want to marry . . . Well. Not some stranger I don’t know!” Regina cried.

“I-I’m really sorry,” their father said. “If there was another way, I’d be all for it. But I just don’t see a way out of this.” He sighed. “Regina, I’ll have the servants pack your things. Take the rest of the day to do whatever you want, say goodbye to people, spend time with your mother, whatever. Just give me time to break the news to her. It’s the least I can do.”

Regina and Reginald left the audience chamber and just walked silently for a bit. “What do you want to do?” Reginald asked.

“Well, father is talking to mother right now. So . . . I guess let me go say goodbye to Chance,” Regina said, still wiping her eyes.

“Man, I didn’t even think about Chance. He’s going to flip out.”

#

They walked out of their estate in the palace district and went the short distance to the upper district where Chance lived. They knocked on the front door of Chance’s house, and his father answered the door.

“Good afternoon, General, sir,” Regina said.

Chance’s father raised one hand and said, “How many times have I told you, Regina, you can just use Mr. Alloway, I’ve been retired almost your whole life.”

“Oh, I know, I just like to see you get flustered from time to time.” Regina laughed back. “Though in seriousness, thank you for all you have done for me. I know I am in your debt.”

The old general perked up, concerned at the comment. “Ok . . . what’s this about?”

Reginald sighed and explained the situation while Regina attempted to look anywhere but at Chance’s father. When Reginald finished, the older man sat silently for a moment. “Regina, I am so sorry you were put in this situation. If it is any comfort, I have known you most of your life, and if there were ever a girl your age that could not just survive—but thrive—in this new situation, it would be you.” Regina couldn’t suppress her smile at that and looked up sheepishly. He placed a hand lightly on one of her shoulders. “I am going to miss you a lot. I know Chance will miss you most of all. Be sure to write to him, ok? Just so he doesn’t go crazy.”

“Thank you, sir, I sure will,” Regina answered.

“Go on ahead, he is out back practicing his technique.” Before the siblings had even left the room, his father was hard at work pondering what he might do to make Chance feel better after their conversation. He went inside to prepare Chance’s favorite food. His father knew it was not much. But it was a start.

They walked through the modest—by their standards—house, and into the backyard where Chance was working. Chance didn’t notice them at first, lost in the rigors of thrusting and swinging his staff, hitting a wooden target dummy. After a moment though, he saw them out of his peripheral vision and turned to face them. “Reg! Regina! What brings you to our humble estate this fine afternoon?” Their faces said volumes. “Yeesh,” he said, concern growing on his face. “Who died?” They explained to him what had happened and what was going to happen soon.

“You’re going to what?!?”

“Get married next week . . .” Regina said, looking at the ground.

“That’s what I thought you said . . .” Chance hurled his staff at the weapon rack and put his head in his hands. He shook with anger and disappointment. “I can’t believe you’d go through with this!”

“It’s not like I have a choice!” Regina yelled back.

Angry and upset Chance said, “You always have a choice. We can leave, renounce our titles and run away. I have saved up enough that we could get out of here and be long gone before they even start looking for us.”

“It’s not that simple!” Regina cried. “I have my family to think about. What would happen to them if their only daughter ran away in the dead of night, never to be seen again? It’d kill them. Maybe literally, if the Patriarch has his way.”

“Yeah, plus how far do you think you can make it before they find you?” Reginald added, gesturing to their distinctive two-toned hair.

“Shut up Reg!” Chance snapped. Reginald’s hurt expression made Chance immediately regret his outburst. He looked away, somewhat ashamed. “Sorry Reg, I don’t want to take it out on you. I’m just . . . I don’t even know.”

“It’s ok,” Reginald replied. “You’re just upset, I am too.”

“Not to make a bad situation worse,” Regina said, “but I should probably head back home, my mother has probably been informed by now and she’ll need consoling.”

Chance sighed. “Typical Regina, always thinking about other people . . .”

“I’m sorry, Chance, truly I am.” Regina sighed and produced a small box from the pack she had brought with her. She handed it to Chance and said, “I was going to give this to you on your birthday soon, but in light of the circumstances I think I should give it to you now. If only as something to remember me by.”

Chance turned the small wooden box over in his hands before moving the small metal clasp that held the two halves together. There were a series of cards that matched the designs they had discussed for his card game. On each, there was information about the card and how it could be used in fine handwriting, as well as a detailed illustration of the spell or creature the card represented.

“I know we have designed a lot more cards. But these were all the ones I had time to make already. I hope you enjoy them.”

Closing the box gently, Chance looked up to Regina and rushed forward to hug her tightly. “Thank you. I am going to miss you unbearably.”

Once Chance let his grip on her go, she took a step back and said, “I leave early tomorrow morning if you want to come by to say goodbye.” And with that, they turned to leave. They almost got out of earshot before Chance started to cry softly.

#

Late that night, squeezing through the same gap in the hedges they always had, Chance snuck into Regina and Reginald’s backyard. Behind him, he dragged two large packs, a couple of staves, and a sizable purse of silver. As he had done many times before, he picked up the small gravel stones that lined the path and pelted Regina’s window. Light came on and she poked her head out the window. He waved and lifted one of the bags into the air. She didn’t say anything, and he waited patiently as she made her way outside.

“What are you DOING here?” Regina asked in a raspy whisper-shout.

“You know what I’m doing here,” Chance replied. “Come on, I got you a change of clothes, we’ve got food and supplies for weeks on the open road. And I had to do a little creative borrowing from my father, but I have plenty of silver too!” He said, opening a pouch to reveal the small fortune.

“You mean you stole it.”

“Semantics. Look, it’s for a good cause, all right?” Chance said.

“Look, you’re really sweet, but I already told you. I can’t. I have a duty to my family, and they have to come first,” Regina said.

Chance’s face fell in disappointment. That was the answer he was expecting, but he still didn’t like it. “Please,” he begged. He stumbled, grasping for the right words that only came out as incoherent gurgling. He gave up. “PLEASE, I’m begging you. I can’t . . .” He swallowed hard. “I can’t stand the idea of never seeing you again.”

Her face turned to one of sympathy. “I know. Me too. It’s just not in the stars.” She leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek. “I know it hurts, but try to forget me. Ok?” And she turned to walk back inside.

“Never,” Chance said under his breath softly to himself, but Regina still heard. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, trying her best not to weep.

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Reginald asked from the darkness.

Startled, Regina stiffened. “Reginald? You heard me?”

“Well, our rooms are right next to each other, and you’re not very quiet,” he said as he came over and sat on the ground next to her.

“I’m surprised you didn’t do your duty and rat me out,” she said.

“Oh Sis,” he said. “More than anything, I want you to be happy. If you’d be happy as a vagrant and fugitive, who am I to stand in your way?”

“Thanks. Seriously,” she said. They sat quietly for a moment.

“You know how he feels about you. Right?”

“Yeah . . .” she said.

“Well, do you feel the same way?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know . . . I don’t know how I feel. I’m so stirred up with this whole thing that I can’t separate out my emotions,” she said.

Reginald only grunted in reply. They sat together quietly for a few minutes in the dark. “Are you ready to go back to bed? You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she replied, and as quietly as they could, they snuck back upstairs to their rooms.

Outside, Chance had squeezed back through the hedges and sat on one of the packs of supplies in the street on the other side of the hedge. He sat there contemplating for quite a while, until one of the guards patrolled by and made him stop loitering. Dejectedly, he dragged his would-be new life’s supplies behind him as he walked to his house. As soon as he entered, he dropped his stuff and walked into his room. He sat on his bed, took off his boots, and laid down, not even changing clothes. He lay there but couldn’t sleep, his thoughts kept him up all night.

#

The following morning was very busy. Servants were busy going to and fro, preparing for Regina’s departure. Their mother had even woken up early to personally make her one of her favorite dishes. It was just pancakes, but they could taste the love—and the butter—in every bite. As she went to leave, her mother gave Regina a small pot with a flower from their garden. It had a single, long stalk with a black, diamond-shaped center and layers of interlocking very-dark-purple petals. Her mother knew it was one of their favorites, and that it didn’t already grow in Galic.

Soon, the preparation was done and they said their final goodbyes. Her father was mostly stoic, but she could tell he was deeply saddened to see her go. Her mother was predictably hysterical and cried all over her. Reginald barely said anything other than “Goodbye,” and hugged her. Regina walked outside and looked around expectantly, but Chance was nowhere to be seen. She stepped into the carriage waiting outside her house and took one last opportunity to say goodbye. Her family waved to her and she looked around for Chance just one more time. She resigned herself that Chance was not coming, so she sat down and closed the carriage door.

She looked out the window as the carriage pulled away and held firm to the potted plant as the carriage lurched to a start. It bumped a bit along the city streets as they wound through the upper district of the city. She could feel the ground change from a bumpy road to the unpaved dirt of a lower city street as soon as they crossed the bridge. She looked down the river that ran toward the rising sun as they crossed, and she had to squint slightly from the light reflected on the river’s surface. Though she did not look away.

Chance watched her leave from the battlements of the palace district walls. It was high enough above the rest of the city that he could watch it all the way out of the lower city and into the land beyond. He stiffly watched the carriage move out of sight and turned over the box of cards in his hands. He fooled himself that he could still see the carriage long after it was gone from sight. During his delusional vigil of wishful thinking, he reflected on the beauty of the illustrations his dear friend had made for him. He took several heaving breaths, attempting to steady his mind. A large gust of wind pushed him back a pace and he lost his balance, landing on the floor of the battlements behind him. Some of the cards bounced out of the box, and in a panic, he scrambled to grab the spilled cards and grabbed all but one before the next gust came and carried the card out of the battlements to float over the city. He nearly suicidally leaped to his death off the wall as the irreplaceable treasure careened out of reach.

He cursed loudly before continuing with several slightly softer curses, immediately followed by a barrage of even louder profanity screamed into the wind. Frustrated and angry, he closed the box of cards and seethed, staring out over the city, just thinking. He followed in his father’s footsteps and joined the army the next day.